I Know You Will
by purplerayz
Summary: Danny takes care of Steve. Steve lets him. Tag to 10x07 "Ka 'i'o" (DNA).


_Tag to 10x07 "Ka 'i'o" (DNA) - Takes place right after the episode in the hotel room - Steve tells Danny to sleep on the couch, then goes into the bathroom._

* * *

Things go a bit fuzzy as he exits the bathroom. The room blurs, his legs suddenly feel weak, and the dizziness that he's maybe admittedly been fighting off for awhile makes itself known again. He knows what's happening, knows it was bound to happen with the way he's been running on steam. He tries to catch himself. His body, unfortunately, decides to list to left, and with his left arm trapped in a sling, he can't do much to stop it.

His trapped arm hits something on the way down, the door jam maybe, or the wall, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder. He slides down ungracefully and lands harshly on his ass. He blinks, stunned and feeling a little numb, and leans heavily against whatever it is behind him. A shadow filters over his already blurred vision, and through muffled ears, he hears Danny calling his name.

Everything goes white, and then things change. He's on the floor, flat on his back, clear of the bathroom doorway. There's a tight grasp on his right wrist, but it's warm against his chilled body and doesn't feel like a threat, so he doesn't pull away. The shadow is still hovering over him, blocking out some of the light. His eyes slowly travel to his wrist in search of what's causing the warmth, and he finds Danny's hand wrapped around it. It takes him a moment to realize he's not just holding his arm, but he's checking his pulse. It takes another for Danny to realize he's being watched.

"Steve," Danny sighs in relief. "Another minute, and I was gonna call an ambulance. Although, I'm guessing you wouldn't have appreciated that. How many beers did you have, huh? I counted at least five bottles, and I'm guessing on an empty stomach. When's the last time you ate? Or slept, for that matter?" He sighs again. "You're not getting any of this, are you? I can't even yell at you properly right now."

Steve blinks again. He is getting it, he is, but Danny's speaking too fast, and the words are slow to register. Danny's right in his assumptions, though. He's not sure exactly how long it's been since he's slept or eaten anything substantial. He probably deserves to be yelled at for not taking care of himself, but he figures he's owed a free pass today.

Instead of answering Danny's questions, he attempts to sit up. Danny's reflexes are quicker than his, though, and a firm hand forces him back down.

"Just stay down a minute, alright?"

Steve listens, mostly out of pure exhaustion than anything else. Danny releases his arm, and the hand that had pushed him back down disappears. He closes he eyes and brings his right arm up to cover them. His head is pounding, and he's still a bit dizzy. His shoulder is throbbing again. He hears Danny move away, shuffle around the room for a bit, doing what, he's not sure, but then it's quiet again.

"Steve?"

The closeness of Danny's voice startles him. His voice is quiet now, concerned. No more yelling. He doesn't move, but his lack of response doesn't dissuade Danny. Danny just grabs his arm and lifts it away from his face. Steve's eyes remain closed until he feels a hand on his cheek.

"Hey," Danny says softly. "Talk to me. Are you alright?"

He manages a small grunt in response.

"Think you can make it to the bed?"

He nods slowly, and Danny helps him sit up, and when he manages that for a minute without incident, helps him stand. The room tilts again, and he leans heavily on Danny. Seconds pass, but neither of them are in a hurry, and Danny seems content to wait until he gets his head on somewhat straight. When he seems more stable, he's led over to the side of the bed, and he sits down gratefully.

"Just a second. Don't keel over, alright?"

Danny pauses a moment, making sure he's steady before he leaves his side. He returns quickly, however, with a glass of water in hand, urging him to drink. He obeys and even greedily drinks the entire glass down.

"You should probably eat, too, but from the looks of you, you're gonna crash again before the food would even get here."

He stares dazedly in front of him, letting Danny's voice wash over him, letting Danny fuss over him. He doesn't have much energy to protest, even if he wanted to.

"How's your shoulder? Did you hurt it?"

"It's fine," Steve answers slowly, finding his voice. "Just sore."

"Okay. Do you want to change?"

He shakes his head, but regrets the movement and stops, wincing. Changing into comfier clothes sounds nice but also sounds like more effort than he's willing to give right now.

"Okay," Danny repeats. He reaches down and at least gets Steve's shoes off of him.

Feet freed, he carefully lays back on the bed, head hitting the pillow with a sigh, and lets Danny help get his feet up on the bed. As Danny pulls the blankets over him, he vaguely wonders when they had been pulled back in the first place and if that's what all the shuffling was about.

"Just sleep, alright. I'll be here."

_I know you will,_ Steve thinks before he finally lets himself fall into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

He jolts awake, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. His head pounds, too. He tries to get his bearings straight, but his mind is slow to process his surroundings. For a brief moment, he thinks maybe it was all a dream, a terrible nightmare, but as the strange ceiling comes into focus above him, he knows. He knows his mom really is gone. It really did happen.

The room is dark, but there's a bit of light coming from somewhere. He lifts his head, glancing around the shadowed room. The bathroom light is on, but the door is only open a crack, letting just enough light through so the room isn't pitch black. The couch is empty. At first, he thinks Danny must be in the bathroom, but then he registers the soft breathing next to him. He turns, allowing a small smile to creep onto his face when he sees Danny sleeping on the bed next to him, glad he hadn't taken him seriously when he told him to sleep on the couch. He's lying on his side, facing him, face half-buried into the pillow.

He lets out a long breath and lays his head back down. Danny's breathing changes next to him.

"Okay?" Danny mutters sleepily, voice muffled by his pillow.

Steve nods, not entirely sure if Danny can see it in the dark room, or if Danny's eyes are even open, for that matter.

"Need anything?"

"No," Steve whispers in response.

"Nightmare?" Danny guesses.

Steve hesitates. "No. I don't think so. Too exhausted to dream, I think." He's grateful for the first dreamless sleep he's had in a while, but deep down, he knows the nightmares will come eventually. "Not yet," he adds, even quieter. He stares up at the ceiling, and it's quiet long enough that he thinks Danny's fallen back asleep. He turns his head to check, but finds Danny watching him.

"Go back to sleep, Danny," he urges.

"Only if you do," Danny shoots back.

Steve turns back to ceiling and closes his eyes. He stays awake long enough to hear Danny's breathing even out again. Eventually, his does, too.

* * *

When he wakes again, light is filtering into the room through the curtains. The bed is empty next to him, but he doesn't need to look far. Danny's sitting sideways on the couch facing his direction, his legs resting up on the cushions. He's looking down at his phone, but he looks up as soon as he realizes Steve's awake.

"Hey," Danny greets.

Steve grunts in response and rubs his eyes with his free hand. He waits a minute before he tries to sit up, knowing it won't be pleasant. He's stiff and sore, and as much as he needed the sleep, it's allowed his body to catch up to the fact that it's injured. Knowing he can't get around it, he finally sits up, grunting with the effort. Danny doesn't comment, but Steve knows he's watching as he carefully gets up and slowly shuffles to the bathroom.

After he closes the door behind him, he leans on the sink for a minute and looks at himself in the mirror. He still looks exhausted, but maybe a little more rested than yesterday. He sighs and gets on with his business before rejoining Danny in the other room.

Danny's sitting normally on the couch when he comes out, leaving space for him to sit. He trudges over and sits heavily next to him.

"Eat. You need to get something in you."

There's a plate of food on the table in front of them that obviously came from the free breakfast downstairs. There's muffins and fruit, plus a bottle of water waiting expectantly next to the plate. As much as he doesn't feel like eating, he knows Danny is right, and he reaches for the plate. He eats slowly but manages to get some of the food down and most of the water.

"How about a shower?" Danny asks when he sees he's finished. "And a shave," he adds with a smirk.

Steve rubs his beard absentmindedly. "I don't have a razor."

Danny reaches down to the floor where there's a plastic bag laying. He pulls out a small, cheap razor and bottle of Tylenol. He's obviously made a trip to some corner drug store or something, thinking ahead for Steve's needs, and had left and come back without even waking him. Danny opens the Tylenol and hands him the pills without asking if he wants them.

"I assumed you weren't taking any pain meds from the doc. Even you're not that stupid to mix them with that many beers."

"Thanks." Steve takes them and downs them with the remaining water.

They both stand up, and Danny helps Steve out of his sling.

"Need help with anything else?"

Steve shakes his head and heads to the bathroom with the razor in hand. It takes some careful movements, but he manages get his clothes off without jostling his shoulder too much. He turns the shower on and waits for it to get hot before stepping in.

He stays under the spray longer than he has in months, but eventually, he washes with the soap provided by the hotel. After he steps out and dries off, he gets to work trimming his beard. His movements are slow, but bit by bit, the beard disappears. After he finishes up, he dresses carefully again but leaves his shirt off.

"Feel better?" Danny asks as he comes out of the bathroom.

"Yeah," Steve sighs.

"You got more bandages?"

Steve nods. "In my bag."

"Sit. I got it."

Steve sits down on the couch and allows Danny to rummage through his bag. Bandages in hand, Danny sits on the coffee table in front of him. He sets them down beside him, first tackling the task of removing the old ones. Steve winces as he pulls bandages off his shoulder.

"Sorry," Danny mutters.

As Danny focuses on the bandages and what's underneath, Steve sees the worry in his eyes. The hurt, too. The knowing that he could have just as easily not come back alive. He hates that he's caused that pain for Danny.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

Danny pauses. "Your going to have to elaborate."

Steve doesn't, though, just watches as Danny resumes his task. He knows what he means, he can tell.

"It's okay, Steve," Danny finally says. "I get it. I don't like it. Didn't like it. Hated it. Hated it everyday you were gone, but I get it. She was your mother. You had to go after her."

"Lot of good it did."

The words escape him before he can stop himself.

Danny finishes applying the new bandages, remaining silent as he gets up and retrieves a shirt and the sling for his arm. He sits back in front of him, helping him into the shirt, then the sling. Steve doesn't even protest.

"You can't do this to yourself," Danny says quietly. His voice is almost pleading. "You offered her an out, and she didn't take it. You did everything you could."

He feels the tears welling up again. He wants to believe that, but all he can think is if he'd never gone to get his mother, she would still be alive.

Danny, apparently, can see his line of thought. "What would have happened if you hadn't gone down there, huh? You'd have worried yourself sick, wondering what's going on, if she's okay, and then either the CIA would have dealt with her, or she could've been compromised. So many things could have happened. You know how these things tend to end. Even if she got out with her payday, it would've come back to bite her in the ass. You can't get a clean break from something like that. It never works. I hate to say it, but I don't think this was going end well, no matter what you did or didn't do. Stop blaming yourself. Just... just try to remember you were with her in the end... She wasn't alone. Focus on that."

His tears spill over, and he leans forward, his body unconsciously seeking comfort... seeking Danny. Danny doesn't hesitate and pulls him in, wrapping his arms around him. Steve rests his head on Danny's shoulder. He lets out a sigh, but it turns into a sob, and then he can't stop.

"Let it out, babe," Danny's voice hitches, too, but he continues to rub circles over Steve's back.

It's several minutes before Steve calms down, and they don't part until he does. He knows he's a mess, and he's left a wet spot on Danny's shirt, but he doesn't feel as embarrassed when he sees Danny has let a few tears slip, too.

"Sorry," Steve finds himself apologizing as he wipes at his eyes.

"Don't be. You needed that. And if you need it again, I'm here, alright?"

He nods and sniffs. "I lost her once already. I didn't think the second time would be so hard."

"It kills me that you even have to say that," Danny's voice is tight, obviously holding back anger. "No one should have to grieve for their mother twice in a lifetime." He gets up in a flourish and heads to the bathroom, but when he returns, his expression is soft again, and he hands over several tissues.

After wiping his eyes and nose and tossing the used tissues, Steve leans back on the couch. He's exhausted again.

"It's okay if you want to lay down again. You're still recovering from being shot, too, you know."

"Yeah," Steve agrees. If he stays where he is, he'll probably crash again, so he makes his way over to the bed. Danny helps him again, pulling blankets up and getting him settled.

* * *

He wakes again with a jolt. He can tell something is off immediately, but it takes him a moment to realize that it's his own body. He feels odd. His heart's racing, and his limbs feel numb and tingly at the same time. He's dizzy and lightheaded, even though he's lying down. There's a tremor running through him, his hands shaking noticeably.

Something is wrong, but he's not sure what. He's finally got some sleep and food and water in his system, so he shouldn't be feeling like this anymore.

"Danny?" he calls out weakly. His voice cracks.

Danny's hovering over him in an instant. "What's wrong?"

"I don't... I dunno," Steve manages to convey. "...feel weird."

"Is it your shoulder?"

"No... dizzy again, and..." He brings his right hand up, trying to show Danny that he's trembling, too, rather than telling him.

Danny sees and puts a hand on his chest in attempt to calm him down. "Just breathe, alright? You're okay. Try to slow your breathing."

Steve closes his eyes. He hadn't realized how fast his breathing had become until Danny points it out. He focuses on breathing slower and curbing the panic that's welling inside him. He focuses on pushing Danny's hand up and down on his chest, and eventually, his breathing slows and the tremors stop. He opens his eyes again, finding himself a little less dizzy, too.

"Sorry," he looks up at Danny, who he realizes is sitting on on the edge of the bed by his hip. "I don't know... what that was."

"A panic attack maybe, or just stress. It makes your body do weird things. But we can make a trip to the hospital if you want?"

He rubs his eyes tiredly. "No... it's gone," he breathes. "I'm okay."

Danny doesn't move from his side, just sits with him silently. Steve's grateful for his presence, unsure if he'd have been able to calm himself down as quickly without him.

* * *

He doesn't remember falling back asleep, but he wakes some time later feeling much better. He hears the low drone of the television and lets the sound wash over him. It's oddly comforting. He's not even sure what's playing, but the sound means Danny's still here with him, and he's not alone.

He slides his eyes open to find Danny sitting next him on the bed, pillow propped up behind his back, eyes on the TV. It's obvious that Danny's strategically placed himself as close as possible in case he woke up in a panic again and needed him. The gesture alone is comforting. Just having Danny here with him makes things a bit easier, eases the ache in his heart just a little bit. He hadn't asked Danny to come, but now that he's here, he can't imagine being in this hotel room alone.

Danny had told him once that he had a way of showing up in people's lives just when they needed it, but all Steve can think right now is that Danny's just the same. He helped him through his father's death years ago, and even though they'd just met, he had eased that ache, too. He's brought him through injuries, brought him back from other countries, brought him back from so many losses. It's only fitting that he's here to bring him back from this one, too.

"You always come for me," Steve says quietly.

Danny looks down at him. "What?"

"I keep running off, and you always come to bring me home."

Danny reaches a hand down to his good shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze. He doesn't reply at first.

"Don't take this as permission to do it again," Danny finally says, "but I'll always bring you home, buddy."

Steve smiles. He knows Danny will, but hearing it out loud makes him feel better. He knows he'll help him get through this, no matter how long it takes.

"Kicking and screaming, if I have to."

Steve huffs out a laugh. He's missed this the past couple of months, missed Danny. "Yeah," he agrees. "I know you will."


End file.
